


Repose on a Folded Wing

by Kasan_Soulblade



Category: X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: Camping, Coming of Age, F/M, Family, Friendship, Prejudice, acceptace, multipersonalities in one body, mutant/human relationship, mutant/human tentions, powers under tentative control
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-10
Updated: 2014-07-10
Packaged: 2018-02-08 06:16:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1929852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kasan_Soulblade/pseuds/Kasan_Soulblade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary pending, will be added at a later date.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Repose on a Folded Wing

**Author's Note:**

> A bit of an extended prequel to “Multitude” I wanted to hammer out Tanya and Karl’s pasts before I pushed ahead on that story and working on their background I realized I actually had a story, a full length work that would serve as a standalone if I edited it. So I did and here we are. Enjoy the read.

 

It was one of those last days, before everything changed. It was technically summer’s end but where they lived made it so that the seasons were a bit skewed. Truthfully it was that pleasant time before autumn could rear its red and brown head to steal away the last of sun strained greenery and begin the vibrant withering that preceded winter’s chill.

Still there were hints of things to come. The bugs were subdued and the leaves were more plentiful than normal. There’d been a chill yesterday, a skein of frost that the heat of noon had made a memory and had spited that memory besides.

It’s eighty nine.” Tanya whined, whipping sweat and straggling blond locks all in one swipe. “How can you be so… prancy?”

Considering he was weighed down with his backpack and it was bulging as he’d stuffed as much of hers in it as well… well she asked a good question. Neither were horridly athletic, loving books (a great deal of their necessities had been batteries and altered flashlights that could be clipped to the book of their preference) and both had stick like figures. So much so that if they had been attired with the colors she’d wanted (browns and greens, to better fit in) well they would have made fetching match with the forest’s few saplings. Having images of juvenile Ents in his head Karl had slammed his food down. Commune with nature, fine (half of him hadn’t minded the idea, simply the type of nature they were in, he’d told that part to shut up and smile and nod because the idea had made Tanya so happy neither of them were ruining things) he’d bite. Blend in with nature, he’d pass. Also considering it was the two of them blending in too much might be dangerous. This was bear country after all, and hunters weren’t unknown (also big foot hunters weren’t unknown, a tall person in forest colors wearing faux fur coats at night would be in danger of those) being as unnatural as possible seemed best.

And on the idea of unnatural… well he smiled, baring teeth that weren’t white highlights along a seriated edge of a face and he was glad for it. Glad that in this moment, for this conversation he was… just himself.

The times when he wasn’t were just too often.

“I’m not exactly natural Tan’.”

Blue eyes scrunched then she stooped, mixing mulch with leaves and tossing the wad at him like a poorly timed ablibbed snowball. He ducked, or tried, and it sorta worked. The backpack took most of the earthen projectile, some of it splatted on the tent poles poking out where he’d had to slide them in amongst the nature mush that was their supplies. As for the projectile that had his, well it slid off his neck, most of it. What didn’t would likely itch and he’d blame her when it did.

“That _can’t_ be your excuse for everything.”

“Alright,” Karl drawled, pushing back his own sodden brown hair and finding a leaf in the process. He held it out; let her see it, then let it fall. “I’m better equipped per genes, nature, and nurture, to take on more extreme weather conditions than you. Happy?”

“No, because your scales are off.” Tanya grumbled. “So it doesn’t make sense.”

“It never did.” Karl countered. Leaning against a tree, because they were many and real and rather convenient really, he watched her pull a water bottle off of her belt strap. One moment and she had the other and had joined him in the shade. Wordlessly she offered, he took, and both rested against Karl’s rest tree. It was broad enough in trunk that they could. Neither set their packs down, they weren’t there yet about less than fifteen minutes away so doing a real rest seemed silly, so they didn’t.

“My father, a professional explorer, ex-paleontologist, used to digging in the hottest places in the world, mucking in the sand for bones and dead things. Really dead things, that weren’t really… And that made sense in my head.” Karl confessed tipping his head to consider leafy boughs above them. They weren’t so thick to block all the light and the effect of sun on greenery was a sort of searing gilding without smoke.

“Blaming the other half?” A poke in his side and then Tanya was centering her supplies (food stuff, not frivolities, most of his packs were filed with that, and the tent). “Because that’s not nice.”

“ _He’s_ not nice.” Karl huffed, “poking isn’t either.”

“Only ‘cause your ticklish right-”

Karl’s response to the descending, twitching fingers was to scramble back, the tree root that got the back of his ankles was entirely coincidental.

And painful.

Tanya winced, and helped him pick up what had fallen and helped him pick himself up as well. Picking up a bit of whimsy (well more, she lived for whimsy and wondered why she applied to it the real the meetings were rarely kind) she set a spare pot atop her head.

Its shiny steel cast clashed with her bright green blazer, near camouflage pants, and chocolate brown packs. Really it did. Still when she asked how it looked he said fine. Because it was just her.

“Not stylish?” She tried a sultry pose as they walked away from the side of impact. A near stumble spooked her out of the odd sort of stroll and had him chuckling besides as he extracted her from the bush her feet had found.

“I’m not an expert in style, unless it’s green.” Karl reiterated a truth both knew. “I like green.”

“Normally I do too.” Tanya huffed, shaking off some bit of leaf that was sticking because of an off orange plant juices.

“You’ve taken your like to the political miss. environmentalist who said we all should be part of nature and acknowledge our place in it.”

“Says Mr. I like green but wear an eye-burning-orange-shirt.”

They were walking again, the slow slide of unsteady straps had Karl walking a little quicker and perhaps Tanya had the same problem because she pushed to keep up. Setting curious helmet at an angle so she could see, the handle of the pot poked from the back of her head like a black horn.

His other half found that image of a head horn somewhat intriguing. _He_ was hung up on the metal ring that pierced the tip of the handle. Taking the analogy further the hook-ring looked almost like a piercing, and that unnatural additive upon what the other thought of as perfectly normal was confusing them both.

“For the record… Karl…” She puffed, forcing herself to talk because for her the forest was quiet, only them and a few tweets and the rustle as their movement kicked up leaves and disturbed the fringes of a trial best used by deer. “You’re not naming _anything_. You get a cat, a dog, a goldfish, when you get to that dorm you call me and I name it.”

Having had enjoyed the quiet that wasn’t (he’d been listening to the soft scuffing of mice, counting scratches to pace and guessed there was a family of them nearby) Karl tried not to be prickly to her chatter. It was Tanya, Tanya who liked to chatter. Most of the times it wasn’t bad (he found the airless, motionless quiet of buildings grating. They’d _needed_ her chatter then, desperately. All the artificial concoctions of music and television though thoughtfull were aggravating beyond words.) but when it wasn’t quiet. When the noise was what he liked (what the other savored) well he took a deep breath and told himself not to snarl at her for falling into habit.

Then because she needed it he answered as he must. “Your names are worse than mine! Mr. Eye searing shirt, I mean, really?”

“Well what would you have named it? The Eye of Saurolon?”

Before he could even _begin_ to get started correcting that, and never mind it was futile, because she never said the name right and he’d been correcting her for years, they pushed through a part of the trail near overgrown. Well he pushed the large branch aside (scales notwithstanding, he wasn’t a complete weakling when they weren’t on) and she scrambled under it, a quick backwards advance got him through without branches smacking him in the face before she could offer (and fail to) do the same for him.

“I know I know I’m pushing back the feminist movement.” Karl grumbled, shutting down any complaint she might have offered. Female pride was one thing, doing dangerous stunts that weren’t needful (and his face getting smashed in with a branch wasn’t needful) just to prove equality irritated him. His hand hurting too, that was irritating, but he couldn’t do much about that.

A thud with clatter told him her packs were off. Recklessly so, he might of said something about being gentle with the stuff that they were going to eat but the sound of running water got him looking up before his mouth opened too wide.

The river. A two day troop from her father’s property line, off the beaten trail (and to the one pranced over by enthusiastic deer) and they were here. And it wasn’t even noon yet. So a day and a half hike then, with a light sleep (because she slept lightly when in discomfort and he slept lightly for… reasons) to make nighttime pass all the faster and get them moving when the light was strong once more.

“So… we’re here?”

She’d been here once before with her family, her older brother and younger to be exact. Sibling outing, the oldest, James, had just come of age and like Tanya was of a somewhat naturalist bent. His final adieu to hearth and home had been to drag his sibs into the woods and have a three week long outing.

Suffice to say Karl’s status in the family had been firmly cemented when he hadn’t been invited.

Shaking off that invitation to a pity party Karl slid out one pole than another, thus armed he looked about and considered where on the sandy bank they should settle up.

Really the possibilities seemed endless, not wanting to pick the wrong place he consulted the presence/pressure in the back of his head. When the rasped suggestion of a tree with thick branches to make a nest was broached Karl decided to ignore his other half.

“Yep, this is it.” Leaning, well stooping over and trying to lean on her packs, Tanya considered scenery. Even as he set the poles to clattering on smoothed pebbles and eased down the rest of their stuff besides them. The water was just a few steps away, crystal clear and flowing quick enough to not quite foam but to be very close to that state around a few rocks that poked out high enough.  “Thanks for being such a good Samuel and carrying my stuff.”

“I’ll convert you yet.”

“Ung.” Her grimace was unfeigned. “No, you won’t, not to your mad mad levels. I like the Hobbit, don’t get me wrong…”

“Just don’t make me sit thought the Lord of the Rings animated movies and stop talking about the upcoming movies because they don’t come out until two years from now.” Karl finished with her.

“That’s it, exactly, I’ll convert you yet.”

“To your mad mad love of a guy in a flying rat costume,” it was his turn to show distaste. “No, you won’t, ever.”

“There’ll be a good movie, just you wait.” Tanya huffed.

While competing fandoms could pass the time they honestly didn’t have much to twiddle down. Shelter and food were necessities, and without modern conveniences making sure they had both was going to be a lot harder than either of them likely expected.

“So, there’s a lake?” Karl asked. “Because if we want water to boil I’d rather pull it from the lake, that stream looks fast enough to be slippery.”

“Yep, there is a lake, with fish, fresh water and no chemicals added. I looked it up, this place is right next to protected area and the present owners not ambitious. In short,” Tanya chuckled, because never mind Karl was a sober near plodding thirty year old in a nineteen year olds body, he was bouncing in place like a five year old. “-you can fish, and eat them raw if you have too. Just wash up between fly byes please.” And even before she would ask, he had his stuff up, and had snatched up hers, a juggle got him more than weighed down and had her wondering how he was doing it.

He’d never tell though, not in a way that made sense.

Still bouncing, he whined and whimpered, wanting to go fishing now, but she made him wait a little as she picked up the poles he dropped and then got her bearings.

Sure they were heading the right way she lead and he followed, voice suddenly raspy asking about what type of fish.

Knowing why that was Tanya humored Sauron with details, taking time to reminded him not to change form until after the camp was set and to do so privately with his clothes off this time.

After all they hadn’t packed that many spares.


End file.
